Sabrina Knox watched Damian Wolfe unravel the way a silk ribbon unravels under a blade—slow, beautiful, and terrifying. It started with whispers. Executives murmuring that Wolfe Tower no longer bowed to Wolfe. Guards trading rumors that their boss had begun making irrational decisions. Syndicate heads questioning why Damian protected Navarro’s daughter as if she were the crown jewel of Manhattan instead of the walking curse Victor Navarro left behind. And at the center of every rumor, every shift, every fracture… was Aria.
Sabrina saw it all. Felt it like acid burning through her throat. She had spent years carving herself into perfection—Damian’s second, his right hand, the woman who knew his schedules, his codes, his enemies, his darkest impulses. She had loved him in the only way a Syndicate woman could: quietly, ferociously, obediently. But now she watched him walk the corridors with his gaze fixed on a girl who should have been dead months ago. A girl who trembled whenever thunder hit. A girl who flinched every time a gun clicked. A girl who wore fear like perfume.
And Damian had begun killing for her.
Sabrina’s hatred sharpened into a weapon.
That afternoon, the sky lounge glowed with floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline reflecting off marble that smelled faintly of citrus and expensive cleaners. Employees crossed the lounge carefully—no one went near Sabrina Knox unless they wanted to lose a limb. Her red heels clicked across the marble floor like gunshots as she entered, scanning the room with predatory precision. She found Aria near the glass railing, sorting through folders Damian had personally assigned to her. The sight alone made Sabrina’s pulse throb with venom.
“How adorable,” Sabrina said, her voice dripping like poisoned honey. “The little stray dog pretending she belongs somewhere.”
Aria stiffened but didn’t look up. “I’m working.”
“Working?” Sabrina stepped closer, her perfume thick and cloying. “Is that what Damian calls it? I assumed he just wanted you close enough to warm his office.”
Aria inhaled slowly. She was trembling, but she refused to show it. “I don’t know what you want, Sabrina.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Sabrina smiled, slow and cruel. “I want your disappearance. Your silence. Your corpse. Take your pick.”
Aria finally turned. “Damian won’t let you touch me.”
Sabrina’s laugh was sharp, brittle, dangerously unhinged. “That’s exactly the problem. He should have let me finish you months ago.”
She took a step forward—then another—until she stood so close Aria could see the malicious gleam in her eyes.
“You think he cares for you?” Sabrina whispered. “You think those desperate little stares mean anything? Men like Damian Wolfe don’t love. They consume. And when they’re done with their toys? They break them.”
Aria’s heartbeat pounded in her throat, but anger flickered beneath the fear. Something small but burning. “If you think I’m his toy,” she whispered, “then why are you scared of me?”
Sabrina’s jaw clenched. She hadn’t expected that.
Aria swallowed hard, voice thin but steady. “Maybe you’re angry because Damian has never looked at you the way he looks at me.”
The slap came so fast Aria barely saw the hand move.
Her cheek snapped to the side, heat blooming across her skin. Gasps erupted from staff nearby, everyone frozen in horrified fascination. Sabrina’s chest heaved, mascara smudging like war paint around her furious eyes.
“How dare you speak to me like you matter,” Sabrina hissed, voice shaking with fury. “You are nothing. A bargaining chip wearing a pretty face. I built this empire with him. I bled for him. I cleaned up his kills. I protected his throne while you were hiding in Navarro’s mansions pretending the world didn’t burn under your father’s feet.”
Aria lifted her chin, cheek throbbing. “I didn’t choose any of this.”
“Neither did I,” Sabrina snarled. “But you stole it anyway.”
Aria slapped her back before she realized what she was doing.
The sound cracked across the lounge like lightning. Sabrina staggered, stunned. For one suspended moment, silence swallowed the room whole. Sabrina’s hand touched her cheek slowly, disbelievingly, as if Aria had torn out a piece of her pride and left the wound exposed for the world to see.
Aria whispered, breath shaking, “I’m done being afraid of you.”
Sabrina’s expression collapsed into pure, murderous fury.
“You don’t understand what’s coming,” Sabrina said, voice low and vicious. “The Syndicate isn’t the only one who wants you gone. Damian won’t always be there to save you. And when he falls—because of you—this city will bury both of you. I swear it.”
Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with rage so deep it bordered on grief.
“You’re going to destroy him,” Sabrina whispered. “And when you do, I’ll destroy you.”
She spun on her heels and stormed out, leaving the staff frozen in the wake of her threat.
Aria stood alone in the sky lounge, shaking so hard the folders slipped from her hands and scattered across the marble floor. Her cheek stung. Her throat felt tight. But beneath the fear was something else—something Sabrina could never steal.
Aria wasn’t the girl who trembled silently anymore.
She was the girl Damian Wolfe had crossed warzones and betrayals and bullets to protect.
And Sabrina Knox had made one fatal mistake:
She had threatened the woman Damian Wolfe was already willing to kill for.